I know what she means. It’s not just the physical pleasure between us. Our bodies are molded together like they were made for each other, but when her gaze is on mine, the connection burns straight to my fucking soul. And I know I’m going to destroy us both by pushing it.
“Look at me, Makena,” I say again, thrusting against her hips and feeling her pussy clasp around my cock.
Her eyes stay open, and she nods.
This time is different. Each touch, movement, and kiss is laced with something that hadn’t been there before.
Broken moans and whimpers fill the space between us. And when we finally come together, I swear the fucking ground moves beneath us.
Rolling over and pulling her against my chest, perspiration still beading along my forehead, a million thoughts race through my mind. Uncertainty. Doubt. Hope. Fear.
But the only thing I know for certain is I don’t ever want to let this woman go.
Chapter 19
Makena
For the first time in almost three weeks, I wake up alone in bed. I heard Shane sneak out before the sun had risen. He’ll be gone a few days. Headed back to Dublin with Owen and Bree to deal with some issue with the recording label.
He’d asked me to go with him, and I’d thought about it. I still haven’t seen much of Ireland, and I’ve been here for close to a month now. But we’ve been spending so much time together that I think it’s best we put a bit of space between us, even if it’s just for a few days.
“You need to get out,” Quinn says when I answer her Facetime call. “Use Colleen’s car and go explore the country. You’ll be home soon enough.”
A sliver of anxiety races through me at her words. Six months had seemed like an unsurmountable amount of time when I first got here, but now it just isn’t long enough. And it’s not just Shane who I’m going to miss when I’m gone. Emer, Delaney, and Bree have made it their mission to include me in every family activity and dinner they have. They’ve become easy friends. Even Agnus, while always quick to give her opinion, has grown on me.
But this isn’t reality.
At least, not mine.
“I have been getting out,” I tell Quinn, who arches a brow at me and purses her lips through the screen. “In fact, Emer is picking me up in a few minutes and we’re going shopping in Sligo.”
“Emer?”
“Shane’s sister. I told you about her.”
“You’re spending time with his family, now?”
“They’re good people.”
“I don’t doubt that.” She frowns, but I can tell she’s holding back.
“What?”
“I just worry about you. I don’t want to see you getting involved with another Chad.”
“Shane is nothing like Chad.” The words are defensive.
She sighs. “You’ve fallen for him.”
“No.” Yes. Harder than I want to admit.
“Just be careful. I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but he’s still…Shane Hayes.”
Even the mention of his name makes butterflies dance in my stomach.
“And you think someone like him could never fall for someone like me?”
“Makena Fraser,” Quinn says, narrowing her eyes at me. “Any man in this world would be lucky to have you. But you know better than anyone that men like him are never satisfied. They always want more. I just don’t want to see you have your heart broken again.”
“It won’t.” Even I don’t believe me.
Not long after I end the call with Quinn, there’s a knock on the door, and Emer comes barreling into the cottage, a huge grin on her face. “Pack an overnight bag, I am officially baby free for forty-eight hours.”
Her enthusiasm is contagious, even though I have no idea what she has planned.
“An overnight bag?”
“Shane is gone. Aiden is watching Cadence. And I just booked a suite at the Shelbourne in Dublin, and a full day of spa treatments. And ye’re going with me.” Emer doesn’t wait for my reaction, she just starts toward the bedroom, and I have no doubt she’ll have my bag packed in two minutes if I don’t stop her.
“I’d love to, but…” I chew on my bottom lip when I watch her open the closet door and pull out my carry-on luggage, before admitting, “I really can’t afford that.”
“It’s my treat.” She gives me a grin that reminds me of Shane, and says, “And ye’ll be doing me a favor. Delaney is due any day now, Bree is busy with her album, and I really don’t want to go alone. I can show ye around Dublin if ye’d like, and we can go to the Brazen Head.”
“The what?”
“Ireland’s oldest pub. It’s almost a thousand years old.” She opens one of my drawers, then cocks a brow and says, “Are ye really going to make me pack for ye?”
I can’t help but laugh. The woman is relentless and stubborn, just like her brother, and I love her for it.
“Okay,” I say, earning me a huge smile and one of Emer’s signature hugs.
I start to grab a few items and put them in my bag when I see Emer glancing at the sketches laid out on the dresser.
“Wow.” She picks one up, her eyes widening in appreciation. “These are incredible. I didn’t know ye were an artist.”
“I’m not. They’re just sketches of designs.”
“Ye’re a fashion designer?” She keeps flipping through the papers. I feel my cheeks grow warm, because next to the designer clothes she can afford, I know mine are just mediocre.
“It’s just a hobby.”
“It’s more than that. Ye’re really good.” She sounds genuinely impressed.
I shrug, but a small tickle of pride stirs in my chest. I know these designs are better than any I’ve done before. And I know I have Shane to thank for it.
We’ve gotten into a habit of spending the afternoons side by side, him with his guitar and me with my sketchbooks. Maybe it’s the music, or his presence, but I’ve been inspired lately, the pictures in my head coming into focus, and my fingers have itched to get the designs down on paper.
After packing my bag, I’m surprised to find a Hummer limousine waiting for us outside.
Emer shrugs when she sees my expression. “Aiden insisted I take a driver. He doesn’t like me driving on the highway by myself. Plus, it means we can have a few glasses of champagne on the way there.”
“I think you may just be my new favorite person,” I say when we’re in the limo, and she pops open one of the champagne bottles.
She laughs and hands me a flute. “I really hope my brother doesn’t screw this up. Because I really like ye, too.”
I frown at her comment. “We’re not…together. Shane and I are just-”
“Friends?” She raises one brow at me, then shakes her head. “He’s practically moved in with ye. I think we can clearly say ye’re more than that.”
I reach for the flute she offers, and take a long sip.
“I’ve never seen my brother the way he is with ye. He cares about ye, that’s obvious.”
Her words cause my stomach to flutter with hope, but I quickly push the feeling away.
“I care about him, too. But you know him better than I do, and we both know he’s not the settling down type.”
“No one is until they meet the right person.” She winks at me, and I see in her expression that she really thinks I am that person for Shane.
And damn if I don’t wish she was right. But I know the truth. Five months from now, I’ll be back home, and I’ll probably never see any of them again.
But it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy my time while I’m here. That’s one lesson Shane has taught me. You have to live in the moment, because you never know what the next second will bring.
An hour into the drive and one bottle of Dom Perignon finished, Emer has me laughing so hard with stories about Shane as a boy, that I’ve got a stitch in my stomach.
“He really was wild,” I say, wiping the tears from my eyes.
“All four of them were.” Emer lifts up anothe
r bottle of champagne and raises her brows in question.
I nod, and she starts to tear the foil away.
“I guess the name Wild Irish suits them.”
“It was my mom who named them that. Even though they won’t admit it.”
“I can’t imagine Aiden and Owen being like that. Cillian, yes. He still has that whole brooding bad boy thing going on. But, Owen seems so serious. And Aiden, well he looks at you like you hung the stars.”
“They’ve all created and had their own share of trouble over the years. But ye’re right. Shane has definitely taken the longest to tame.”
I chuckle at that, and add, “I don’t think he’ll ever be tamed.”
She grins at me. “I think he already has.”
I shake my head, knowing she’s wrong. He has a restlessness to him. And the more time I spend with him, the more I think he’s struggling with more than just not being able to play his music.
Chapter 20
Shane
I was already in a shitty mood from having to be away from Makena for a few days, but the last twenty-four hours, dealing with accountants and financial advisors, has left me with a headache the size of Carrauntoohil. Because, despite not understanding half the jargon they spewed, one thing is certain, the label is in the red. We’re losing money.
“We need to sell. Now.” I may not be the smartest guy in the world, but I know a sinking ship when I’m standing on it.
“Give it another year.” Owen leans back in his chair, his brows furrowed and arms crossed. And I know he won’t budge. “We’ll recoup our losses as soon as Bree’s album comes out.”
If I didn’t think of Owen as a brother, I’d have half a mind to sell my half of the company tomorrow. But I’m not that much of an asshole. And the losses are nothing compared to the money our own albums are still bringing in.
After spending a few hours in one of the recording rooms messing around with a couple song ideas, I drive back to my Dublin apartment. The place feels cold and empty. A reminder of my life before I met Makena.
It’s only been a couple of weeks, but she’s turned my whole world upside down in that short amount of time. I wanted her here. Asked her to come. And I admit I was more than a little disappointed when she refused.
Our time together is limited, and I don’t want to waste a day, especially not on bullshit financial reports, when I could be buried inside of her, tasting her lips, swallowing her moans.
I try calling her again, but there’s no answer, which is starting to piss me off and worrying me at the same time. She said she wanted a few days to think about things. Whatever the hell that means. I’m not sure what she has to think about. Everything between us is good. Hell, it’s better than good. It’s been fucking perfect. And I’m worried she’s going to mess things up by overthinking this whole thing.
It’s been two damn days since I’ve talked to her. How much space does she need?
I drag my fingers through my hair and curse under my breath.
Jeezus, I’m turning into a damn girl.
She’s become an obsession.
I toss my keys on the kitchen counter and dial Emer. No answer. Damn it. I try Aiden.
“Yeah?” Aiden’s voice is groggy. I can hear Cadence crying in the background.
“I need to talk to Emer.” If Makena won’t answer my calls, maybe she’ll talk to my sister.
“She’s not here. She took Makena to the Shelbourne for a couple days.”
“They’re in Dublin?” I frown.
“Went to a spa to get their toes painted, or whatever chicks do at those places.”
“Ye’ve got the kid all by yerself?” I chuckle, imagining Aiden juggling diapers and bottles.
“Yer mom’s been helping, but told her to leave a couple hours ago.”
“Already regretting it?”
“Ye have no idea.”
I shake my head as I end the call, thinking about how much our lives have changed in the last year.
Except, right now, it’s not the music that I can’t stop thinking about. It’s Makena. And the fact that she’s here, in the city.
She wants space. And I need to give it to her. She’s with Emer, which could either be a good thing, or a bad thing, depending what stories she’s told her. She has more than a dozen reasons to get even with me, and double the amount of exploits to embarrass me with for years to come.
I pull a beer out of the fridge and uncap it. That’s when I notice an envelope on my kitchen table with my name scribbled on it.
Frowning, I pick it up. No one, other than my cleaning lady, has access to my apartment. And even before I open the letter, I have a sinking feeling I know who it’s from. Scanning the handwritten words, bile burns in my throat.
…we can be happy…
…a family…
…your child needs you…
…you betray us with that whore…
This is the longest letter so far. And like every other one, it isn’t signed. But it does include a lot more personal information than I’d like anyone to know, including Makena’s name and the fact that I’ve been pretty much living with her for the past couple of weeks.
Fuck.
Whoever this woman is, she’s delusional. Maybe even batshit crazy.
Snapping a picture of the letter, I send it to my manager. Two minutes later, he calls me.
“She got into my fucking apartment.” The fear that I’d felt when I first started receiving the damn notes is nothing compared to what I feel now. Because now I have something even bigger than my reputation and freedom to lose. I have Makena. And I know without any doubt that she’ll hit the road the second she gets wind of this scandal.
Not that I blame her. She’s already been through enough with her ex. I need this situation straightened out, or, at the very least, I need to know how much fucking truth is in those letters.
“I think it’s time we got the police involved.”
“We do that and we’re practically inviting the media smack into it. I want this dealt with quietly.”
“And if the woman goes public?”
“Then I deal with it. But we need to know who she is.”
“I’ll have someone take a look at the security tapes in the building. If she’s been there, then we should have a visual.”
“I also want ye to put a man on Makena Fraser. She’s staying at the Shelbourne with Emer. Whoever wrote these letters knows I’m with her. There wasn’t any clear threat, but I’m not willing to take any chances until we know who this is.”
Chapter 21
Makena
The past two days have been bliss, being pampered and catered to like royalty. And I’m so glad Emer convinced me to come with her.
But I miss Shane.
That revelation is scary. Because if I miss him after just a couple days, then what am I going to be like when I have to go home?
Five months. That’s still a long time. And who knows what will happen between then and now? For all I know, he could be tired of me way before then. Or I’ll be tired of him.
I snort. Because, who am I kidding? The last couple weeks have been the best of my life. It’s not just the way the man has awakened my body. He’s stirred something in my soul. A passion. And that’s something that can’t be taken away. Not even when my heart breaks if this thing between us comes to an end.
“What’s that look for?” Emer asks as we’re walking down the old cobblestone streets of Dublin toward the Brazen Head Pub.
“I’m just grateful for everything. Thank you for all this.”
She locks her arm with mine. “Maybe we can make it an annual thing. Next time, Bree and Delaney can join us.”
I don’t mention that I won’t be here in a year. She already knows. But I have a feeling that she’s hoping whatever this thing is between Shane and I is more than what I know it is - temporary. Because it’s not a matter of if this thing ends, it’s when.
The Brazen Head is already overflowing w
ith people when we sit down in one of the many rooms that make up the pub. The room we’re in has a bar on one side and a band playing in the corner, and I can’t move without touching elbows with someone.
Sitting at the bar, Emer orders two Guinness. A man, who is starting to look a little too familiar, sits down at the far end, his beady eyes continually drifting in our direction. He has a look about him that screams trouble. And not the good kind.
I’m pretty sure I saw him in the lobby of our hotel earlier, as well as when we were walking here.
I’m about to mention it to Emer, but she’s frowning down at her phone, typing out a message.
“Is everything okay?”
She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. “Cadence has a fever. Aiden thinks it’s just from teething, but…”
“You need to go home.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Your family comes first.”
“If ye want to stay, I can have the driver take me home, then come back for ye tomorrow morning. Ye have the suite to yerself until then. Ye can always give Shane a call and let him know ye’re here.”
“You wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course not.” She slides off her stool, then gives me a hug before disappearing into the crowd.
The minute she’s gone, I realize my mistake. I didn’t bring my phone with me. It’s been sitting in the hotel room, uncharged for the past few days since I forgot to bring my charger. I think about going after Emer, but I know I’ll never catch up to her in the damn heels I’m wearing.
“Did your friend leave you?” A tall, sandy blond man in his late twenties sits down in the seat next to me. His eyes, a pale blue, are friendly, a contrast to the beady-eyed man on the other side of the bar that’s doing a poor job of pretending he’s not watching me.
“She’ll be back,” I lie.
“You’re American?” he asks with a southern drawl.
I nod and take a sip of my beer. Maybe I should have gone with Emer. There’s nothing wrong with harmless flirting, but I didn’t come here looking for a man’s attention. The only man I want is Shane.
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